Anger
by Kyokukou
Summary: Why won't Ranma hold a grudge? Why won't he snap and lay the smack down as needed? Nabiki finally asks.


Anger  
  
By Kyokukou  
  
Disclaimer: Believe it or not, writing this actually helped me get rid of some   
anger of my own. I feel a lot better. Oh yeah, the disclaimer; don't wanna get   
sued. –Ahem- I do not own any of the characters, plot elements, catch phrases,   
comedic romantic situations, big ass mallets, et cetera ad infinitum that are in   
and of Ranma ½. All rights should be reserved by someone with big scary lawyers.  
  
  
  
  
" Ohhh he makes me so ANGRY!" Akane growled as she stormed off, leaving a   
regular victim twitching on the backyard grass.  
" I'm going to a friend's house." Akane announced as she started putting her   
shoes on at the front door.  
" Which one?" Kasumi called from upstairs.  
" I don't know," Akane called back. " one of them!" She finished an instant   
before the front door slammed behind her.  
Nabiki decided that it was safe to move from her seat on the veranda. She   
had frozen in place when Akane had stormed past, Mallet of Doom™ in hand. It   
was best to blend in with the wall in such situations. To avoid an accidental   
wacking.  
" Ranma?" She called to the still figure on the grass below her.  
" She gone?" Came the muffled reply.  
" For now."  
To the tune of many, many popping joints and creaking ligaments Ranma   
brought himself to a sitting position. After gingerly shaking his head and   
patting off most of the dust he stood and sat down a conversational distance   
from Nabiki on the porch.   
" You stated down longer than usual. Are you alright?" Nabiki asked. " She   
didn't hit you that hard."   
" Yeah." Ranma agreed. " But earlier today I ran into Ryouga, Mousse, the old   
Freak, sparred with Pops, and the old Ghoul wanted to test my endurance to   
rapid changes of my curse."   
" But it's only eleven in the morning!"   
" Had worse days." Ranma mumbled as he made sure his jaw was in proper   
alignment.   
" Sometimes just can't believe you." Nabiki snorted. " What? Do you get off   
of getting smacked around by everyone?"  
" Hey? What'd I do?" Ranma looked at her in indignant surprise. " Ryouga has   
had it in for me since junior high. Mousse just finds it easier to get his   
ass kicked by me than go and try hitting that bimbo. The Freak needs no   
explanation. Same with that damned old Ghoul."  
" Ranma, I'm a smart girl, even I know that if you wanted to you could really   
avoid Ryouga, whip Mousse so bad he'd need a bodycast, use your curse to take   
out Happosai, you've surpassed your father, and you could match wits with the   
old Amazon woman any day. Don't give me that bull shit."  
Ranma looked at Nabiki as if she had spoken blasphemy, he edged away from   
her a few centimeters. " Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"   
" PMS. Deal with it."  
" Oh."  
Nabiki let that sink in for a few moments as she entertained the fantasy   
of trapping Ranma in his cursed form for a month so he could feel the monthly   
curse himself.  
" Why aren't you pissed about all this?" She asked him. " I've seen you put   
in mortal danger by someone and the next day all is forgiven. Akane bashes   
you around over and over again and you only grumble about it like it was just   
a papercut or a reoccurring pimple. Even when you do get pissed you just calm   
down a few fricking seconds later. You know, sometimes it pisses me off that   
you can't just get fed up with this whole situation. Go out one day, kick ass   
and take names and solve a whole hell of a lot of problems. Kick the Chinese   
trio back to China. Hospitalize the Kuno clan. Throw Ryouga into the flipping   
ocean. Entomb Happosai for another ten years. Tell off your father and Akane   
both! For someone who's so damn strong, and so damn brave you really are a   
coward about yourself! You could save Akane from hell itself with a cocky grin   
in place the whole time, but refuse to stick up for yourself when it would   
require you to get pissed and do some damage! What the hell is wrong with you?!"   
Nabiki put a hand to her chest to calm herself after the outburst. Ranma   
had put both hands over his head and taken the classic air raid cover position.   
He peeked out from under his hands at Nabiki fearfully.  
" So answer me." Nabiki ordered in a much calmer tone.  
Ranma sobered up abruptly. He sat up straight and looked at Nabiki   
critically. " Do you really care, or is this a hormonal thing?"  
" Does it matter?" Nabiki folded her arms. " Whether I'm being hormonal or I   
really do care won't change the fact that I'm about ready to use blackmail to   
get an answer."  
To Nabiki's surprise, Ranma did not even flinch at the threat.  
" You're not going to like the answer. And I don't want to talk about it   
here. That is, if you really want to hear it."  
" Spill it Saotome."  
" Not here." Ranma shook his head.  
" Here." She shook hers in return.  
" Not where Kasumi could overhear." Ranma insisted. " I don't want her to hear   
any of it."  
" Huh?" Nabiki took a moment to study Ranma. The boy never had much of a   
poker face, and never acting skills that she had trouble seeing through.   
Which made the solemn sincerity in the condition all the more potent.   
" Fine. Where?"   
  
* * *  
  
Nabiki looked around at the Dojo. They sat in the center, with all the   
doors shut and the lights off. The only light came through the rice paper,   
bathing the room in an ambiance like twilight. Ranma stared at the rafters with   
an expression she had rarely seen on his face, sad reluctance. Like a doctor   
trying to word how he was to 'break the news' to a patient's family.  
" You know Pops's temper." Ranma began in a voice so soft it was barely   
louder than a whisper. " Quick, vicious, defensive, and short-lived. That's   
not something I inherited from him. It's something he tried to instill in me   
since I was five.  
" From what little I know from Pop, I got my temper from two people. My   
grandfather, Pop's dad, and my mother. My grandfather had a slow temper, but   
it was very long-lived. Pop tells me that if you crossed him a year ago he'd   
still be ready to take up the old argument in a heartbeat. But it took a hell   
of a lot to get him even annoyed. Mom, however, she has a temper kina like   
Akane's but much more…damn I wish I was good a words…much more sharp.   
Akane'll hit you for ticking her off, Mom'll do something to you that was   
twice as bad as what you did to her, no more, no less.  
" I got both of their tempters combined, my grandfather's and Mom's. It   
takes a lot to actually piss me off, but once you do I'll pay you back twice as   
much and twice as long, and I'll be twice as unforgiving about it as almost   
anybody else. My mother does not like her temper and has spent most of her life   
building control over it. Which is something that my Pop said he always admired,   
and that he came to an agreement with her about mine. One of the things he was   
training me for was to have a temper more like his. One that will allow me to   
really 'stick up for myself' like you want me to, but one that fizzles out   
easily enough. Pop also stressed not holding grudges more than almost anything   
else. 'A true martial artist always must accept the possibility that today's   
mortal foes might become tomorrow's greatest allies, and that the opposite can   
sadly become just as true.'.  
" I know that having that hammered into my head for alla' my life is one   
of the reasons why I'm too scared to really get close to anyone but Kasumi.   
Deep down Pop has me convinced that at any moment anyone could turn on me in   
every way I used to trust them. Right now a little instinct in my head is   
screaming for me to shut up. Screaming that you'll tell this to everyone.   
Tell this and more, tell this and make up lies. All for spite. Pop taught me to   
be paranoid about the world in a big way, but not to ever hold a grudge   
for anything but a murder. Not to allow myself anger over anything but murder.  
" I love Kasumi to pieces, but there is that little fear that outta   
nowhere all of that love and niceness will turn around one eighty. I'm always   
wary of your motives Nabiki, even when the obvious one would be profit. But I   
can't distrust you completely in case you one eighty. Then there is Akane. I   
think she already one eighties on me every damn day."  
For a moment Ranma stopped, as if to check what he had already said   
versus what he meant to say. Then he nodded to himself and continued.  
" When I was really young I used to look up to my father as a demigod. Five   
meters tall and bulletproof, able to anything if he felt like it. So when he   
kept drilling me on how to get angry, how to calm down, and when to do which,   
I put all my heart into it. But nature versus nurture don't always balance   
out, Nabiki. A little kid's will against a huge temper really won't make a   
dent. So I had a few episodes where it came out. Like I said before, it takes   
a lot to even get it pumping, but once it does… The first instance I remember   
was when a little boy a few years older than me, maybe he was six or seven.   
Anyway, that little boy heckled me at school for not having a mother. He did   
it for more than two weeks before my temper came out. I came to school one   
day and he and his friends started jeering me. So at P.E. I stole their   
uniforms and put them in their desks. The next day I stole them and threw   
them all over the roof. Then in the air vents. Then in the street. Then I   
burned them in the furnace. I would have kept going but Pop heard of the   
missing clothes problem and knew it was me immediately. I don't think that   
you have much of a high opinion of my Pop, but remember that he never   
punished me as harshly for anything as he did my temper. At the time I didn't   
understand. After one incident when I was thirteen I did understand. That's one   
of the only reasons why I still have any respect for my Pop. He understands   
what my temper unchecked could have led me to do with all my training.  
" The next big incident that really sticks in my mind was at the beach. I   
wanna say I was seven or eight at the time. I was swimming and Pop was   
working some bars with a scam he had cooked up. He would bet the people at   
the bar that he could drink three beers before another guy could knock back   
three shots of saké. The catch being that Pop couldn't touch the shot   
glasses, and the other guy couldn't touch the beer glasses. Pop would gulp   
down one glass by the time the other guy had one or two shots done. Then Pop   
would slam his glass over the last shot. Guy couldn't touch the beer glass so   
Pop always won. He just never could do it twice in the same bar.   
" Anyway, while Pop did that I would swim at the beach. I loved swimming   
before my curse. A lot of my training was with water. Get down in water up to   
your neck and do a kata, slap all the water out of a huge cistern. Stuff like   
that. So I was having a great time taking a break from school and training to   
simply swim at the beach like anyone else. Then there was this really fat kid. I   
mean clinically obese at twelve. He was in inner tube and knocked me down   
underwater after one wave. I got up and demanded he apologize. The kid laughed   
and with the help of his friends and the next wave he knocked me down and sat on   
me. I was underwater, with all the sand rushing up over me and down over me as   
the waves went by. In all that water the fat boy didn't weight much, but he had   
his friends on his shoulders. With just sand under me I couldn't get any   
leverage. I just sunk in further if I struggled. I don't know how long they were   
planning on keeping me under there. I know that they really didn't want to drown   
me, but when I finally freed myself they had yet to make any effort to let me   
up. From the knockdown and the struggling I didn't have much air, and before   
things started to fade I was reaching up past those fat thighs to pull him off   
me by his unmentionables. At seven I was pretty strong, I heard his scream even   
under the water. The second I got my head out I was swinging. Both of the fat   
kid's friends ran off with black eyes and bruises everywhere. The fat boy   
himself was too slow to get away from me. I had to drag him out of the water   
after I was through pummeling him.  
" The kid may have been in the wrong, but no damn twelve year old   
deserves to have nearly all of his teeth knocked out and most of his face   
busted up. At twelve, he probably has scars on his face and all of his teeth   
are fake. No twelve year old deserves that for simply being a mean brat.  
" There are more instances, but as I got older they were less frequent. I   
got older and my will got stronger and Pop had trained me about my temper for   
one year longer. Most of the outbursts were against my Pop, which at that age   
just meant that I did a whole lot of nothing and he waited until I had tired   
myself out. Then he would critique my attacks as he punished me.  
" I guess as everybody grows up there are certain instances that kina   
spur us. Incidents that are so shameful to us even at that age that we have   
to grow up a little to avoid another one like it. I know I have a lot of   
little shaming memories that spur me on, but this is the one that killed my   
temper. No, it didn't do that. It made me kill it myself."  
Ranma did not look down from the rafters as he asked:  
" Nabiki, can you swear to me, on Tendo honor, that you'll not pass this on   
to anyone without my knowledge and permission?"  
Nabiki swallowed hard. Stuck in between figuring out a loophole for future   
blackmail and actual loyalty to someone who could become family.  
" A nod will do." Ranma prompted.  
She nodded.  
" Nabiki, do you think that Akane is the first arranged marriage that I have   
been in?"  
" No, there's Ukyo." Nabiki answered automatically. " I understand that Shampoo   
was an accident, but her too, and-"  
" No, I mean the first one that I knew about. That I was introduced to my   
future wife and told to get to know her."   
" Oh no," Nabiki shook her head slowly. " Genma's done this whole bit before?   
Don't you dare tell me that he's playing Daddy for a fool."  
Ranma closed his eyes and rolled his head about slowly, to ease some   
developing cramp. " No, Pop's deadly serious about his promise to his best   
friend. The engagement I'm talking about wasn't Pop's idea. He was more or less   
coerced into it. When it comes to Akane, Pop is very much looking forward to   
calling her his Daughter. Hell, he practices it sometimes with a picture of her.   
Just to cheer himself up on bad days."  
" I had no idea." Nabiki said.  
" Pretend you still don't." Ranma muttered. " Pops likes Kasumi and you too,   
but he's kinda scared that you'll scam him out of his money while he's trying   
to scam you out of yours. He's really looking forward to being a formal part   
of the Tendo family as an in-law."  
" But you're not?"  
" Never was my choice, and a lot of my reluctance about girls and anything   
romantic goes back to this. The girl that was my first love."  
Ranma stopped rolling his neck and sat with his shoulders slumped. His   
eyes staring at the floor in front of Nabiki.  
" I had just turned thirteen when Pops brought me to this Dojo northwest of the   
Nagasaki area. It was on that rough border between civilization and the mountain   
forests. The master there was famed for his prowess with the kama, the bo, the   
sword and the Goju school of karate. He wasn't a young man, I guess he was in   
his late fifties, but he had a daughter my age. Almost my age to the day, I   
think her birthday was a week or two behind mine. Her name was Kioko and she was   
grace in motion.  
" I walked into the Dojo with my Pop and there she was, practicing with   
some thirty other people, but even at her age I could spot her from the crowd   
simply by her being so much better than any of them. Pop introduced us and   
arrangements were made for the two of us to stay there if we did this and   
that. The sort of arrangement that we made just about every time. The master   
noticed who I was watching, of course. All he did was chuckle about it and go   
on.   
" So more than a week passed and I fell deeper for her every day. Pop   
knew it, anybody who was over sixteen knew it with a glance, but she didn't   
know it and I was too scared to say anything about it. After all, we would be   
leaving in soon anyway. But the more time I spent with her, training,   
talking, walking together, heck I even did homework with her and her older   
sister helping us.   
" One day her older sister just couldn't stand us any longer and went to   
the master. She told him about my feelings, and about Kioko's feelings   
towards me, which I was unaware of. The master thought for a while and   
observed us for a day or two before deciding that if one of us would have the   
initiative and bravery to confess to the other, then he would step in to help   
things. I didn't find out about this until afterwards.  
" So finally I get up the guts one day to tell her how I felt about her.   
I spend the morning looking in books for the right line to express how I   
felt. I found it in a haiku about love and its suddenness sometimes. So when   
I got her alone with me I confessed with that line. I expected to be laughed   
at or hit. Instead she hugged me and cried with relief, because she had been   
trying to get up the courage to tell me her feelings.   
" I was in heaven. She was too traditionally modest to kiss me or do much   
  
more than hold my hand, but I would have fainted if we had done any more. As it   
was, I usually got a little giddy when we held hands. Life went on, but with   
the change of us sharing each other's feelings. I don't think I had ever been   
that happy in my life as I was those weeks except for a few fleeting moments.   
After a week or more the master had watched enough and he approached Pop with   
the proposition of betrothing the two of us. Now, Pop always remembered his   
promise to your father. As such he only engaged me when he thought there   
wasn't going to be much of a problem escaping the whole thing. My feelings   
for Kioko made for a serious problem in escaping. So Pop refused, a little to   
vigorously. The master was insulted and demanded an apology. Pop refused to   
grant one. Which pissed off the master enough for him to imply that he just   
might let slip to Kioko how she could entrap me into such an engagement.   
Sleeping with me. At such a young age it would be a scandal to shame the   
family of the boy who must have forced such a young innocent. Pop gave in. Of   
course the whole time since that day he was plotting some way of escape.  
" None of that reached Kioko or myself. I only found out the whole story a   
year ago. We were just told one day that we were betrothed to each other, and   
that when we turned eighteen we would be married. Kioko was ecstatic, I was   
scared, but not too much. At thirteen, eighteen seems a lifetime away. So I was   
happy too.   
" As silly as it may sound at this age today, the only thing that we did   
different physically was that she permitted herself to kiss me on the cheek   
now, but demurely refused to let me return the favor. I have a obsession with   
being the very best at all aspects of martial arts. Kioko had a similar   
obsession with being her own definition of a perfect female martial artist.   
Demure, proper, strong and elegant, dignified and quick in all respects. We   
enjoyed each other's obsessions and kina fed off them. They crossed and   
overlapped without the competitive rough edge that Akane and I run into.   
Akane and I are after the same thing, Kioko and I were after different but   
similar things. So we spent even more time together than before, she helped   
out with my training to Pop wouldn't mind, in theory. And I helped her train in   
every way I could think of.   
" Nabiki, if you ever find someone that makes you happy simply by being   
in the same room as you. Keep an eye on them. If they make you dizzy with   
happiness by simply touching you. Hold on to them. If there really isn't much   
problem with the two of you together in either of your lives. Grab them and   
hold on with all the strength your heart has.  
" Only a few days after the engagement was official a guy named Makoto   
showed up. He was older than me, sixteen or seventeen. But he had known Kioko   
for the whole time he had studied under the master. Makoto studied Goju for   
hand to hand and classic kenjutsu under the master. Both since he was very   
young, but not as young as five years old like me, his parents weren't nuts.  
" Makoto had liked Kioko ten times longer than I had know her. He had liked   
her for years, but age difference stopped him. He was always waiting for her to   
get older before he made his declaration. Then he came back from a trip to visit   
relatives in California to find his love not only engaged to someone else,   
but very happy about it. Makoto hated me from that day on, hated me in a way   
that not many people can hate at that age.   
  
" Every day he would do everything in his power to make my life miserable.   
Which drove Kioko away from him very fast. He knew it would happen, but why not?   
She was already lost to him because of the engagement. Still, the day she   
screamed in his face that she hated him was the day I think that he consciously   
resolved to kill me.  
" After that day Makoto spent more time training than he did anything else,   
school, sleeping, even torturing me. In our inexperience we thought that Kioko   
had won. That she had gotten him to leave me alone for the most part. I merely   
took his extra training as the same reaction I had when I lost something. I   
threw my frustrations into training. I had no idea that he practiced at home   
with a real sword, or that now he only chose sparring partners of my size and   
build.  
" Weeks went by and one day it happened. Makoto decided that he was ready,   
or maybe it was that he couldn't wait any longer. Now, Makoto was not stupid, he   
was smarter than any of the people here in Nerima, except you Nabiki. He did not   
just challenge me. He spent a few days setting things up so that the master was   
out of town at a meeting. Kioko's mother was off with relatives. Pops was buying   
supplies for the Dojo and that Kioko was at school in detention. The last thing   
was known only to him. Everyone at the Dojo wondered what had happened to her.   
" Just as I was starting to get really worried about Kioko when a phone call   
came. I answered. It was Makoto, and he sounded like he was panicking. He told   
me that she had gone into the woods by Miyamoto falls for some meditation time,   
but a rock had dislodged and she was hurt bad. He kept stressing that she was   
asking for me, calling for me, begging for me. If I had been smart I would have   
told him I was coming, called a rescue service and then went out. Instead I   
panicked and ran from the Dojo to the damn falls more than four kilometers north   
of the dojo. I ran the whole way.  
" When I got there I was out of breath and met with a sight that I had never   
before imagined. Makoto stood on the bolder that he had said fell into the falls   
pool twenty meters below. But there was blood on the top of the bolder, and   
blood on the cloth he held in his left hand. In his right hand he held a katana   
stolen from the dojo.  
" He had set it up perfectly, but I still did not want to imagine what had   
happened, I did not want to believe the obvious. Then he said the words that   
I will always remember. 'I didn't lie to you Ranma, she did fall, but it took me   
two swings.'. Then he jumped down and charged me. Normally my real temper took a   
while to rile up, but this was the one thing that my natural temper and what my   
father taught me agreed on. No forgiveness for a murder.   
" So I met his charge halfway. Something that he never expected. But   
Makoto was older than me, bigger than me, stronger than me, tougher than me, and   
almost as angry as me. It was one of the longest real fights I've ever fought.   
Even longer than some of the real fights Ryouga and I have had. Before I was   
able to send the sword over the falls Makoto managed to stab me three times and   
slice open my back a little. Before he lost the sword I had broken a few of his   
ribs and at least cracked his left ulna. After Makoto lost the sword he had lost   
the fight, and he knew it. But he wasn't about to let me do any less than kill   
him. He wanted to kill me even if it was the last thing he did. So when he had   
the chance Makoto took the both of us over the falls. Neither of us hit anything   
in the fall, but we were separated just before hitting the water. If I had the   
temper of my father I would have escaped then. Instead as tired as I was, and as   
injured as I was, I still fought the current and swam to the shore he stood on.   
Somehow he had found the sword again, it must have landed nearby. We fought   
again. I took a few more sword wounds from him, he took a few more broken bones   
from me, but I ended up finally beating him unconscious. I would have cut his   
head off with his own sword if a few people from the Dojo hadn't finally showed   
up to stop me. I fought them when they tried to stop me. Thankfully the worst   
damage I did was a few bruised ribs to two of the students.   
" If it hadn't been for them I would have killed Makoto. Then I would have   
bled to death from my wounds. They saved both of us."  
Ranma ran a hand over his face and was silent for a moment before leaning   
back and laying down. Eyes closed, Ranma continued.   
" Makoto lived, but he had to have some surgery after some of the things I had   
done to him. They almost had to amputate his left arm, because I had shattered   
the humerus so badly. But in the end it just took some emergency surgery, casts,   
and a blood transfusion and he was on the road to recovery. But his left arm   
would never be the same again according to the doctors. All I needed was some   
stitches and a blood transfusion.  
" Thankfully enough of the phone conversation was overheard that the police   
pieced together what had happened even before they got around to questioning me.   
Pops snatched the opportunity faster than I could have imagined. He wrote a   
letter to the Master that day breaking the engagement on grounds of emotional   
trauma to me. The moment I was released from the hospital Pop had me in a cab. I   
fell asleep from the painkillers I was still on, that was when he changed the   
destination to the local train station. By the time I woke up we were in   
Matsuyama. Still in shock, and disorientated by the whole thing I wrote a letter   
to Kioko, thinking that we'd be back to her in a few days. I still did not know   
that the engagement was broken.   
" Before we left Matsuyama I got a letter back from Kioko. Pops burned it   
before I could even open it. Then he told me about the break off, and that   
supposedly the master would be furious at me if I ever returned. And that the   
best thing for Kioko was that I did not return. At the time I wanted to fight   
him, I wanted to get up and fight him with the power I had when I fought   
Makoto. But the horror of my last sight of Makoto stopped me. He had been on   
a gurney, blood soaking through the sheets as they wheeled him to surgery.   
That stopped me that night. That was the night that, although I did not know   
it, I did my best to kill that part of myself, that anger. I had nearly killed   
someone over a lie. The blood had been from a boar that Makoto had killed only   
moments after calling me. I had almost killed a young man over a lie. My temper   
had ruined not only Makoto's life as a martial artist but my relationship with   
Kioko. If I had left after that fall and left Makoto on the rocky beach I could   
have returned to the dojo and found Kioko there. She had arrived only a minute   
or two after I had run out of sight of the dojo.  
" I blame more than my temper, my anger, for what happened. I know that it   
was all Pop that took Kioko from me. Later that year I ran away to find her,   
only to find that Pops had really pissed the master off to no end. That letter   
had been designed by Pop to ruin all hope of me ever getting back in the good   
graces of the master. The man almost beat me senseless just for showing up.   
" The last time I saw Kioko, she was fighting against her older sister   
and brother, trying to get past them, to get to me. She was crying as she called   
my name over and over again. Then her father shut the door in my face after   
telling me that he would never forgive what my father had done. Since then I   
have been more than a little reluctant to ever entertain any thought of really   
letting myself get angry. Ever."  
Quickly, Ranma rolled onto this feet without a sound and walked to the door.   
" I was thirteen then. If I ever got angry now. I would literally tear whoever   
it was limb from limb. I couldn't live with that, not with the possibility that   
it might be undeserved like the others. So don't tell me to tell off Akane and   
Pop, or rage at Mousse or Ryouga. I couldn't forgive myself. I only hope that   
Kioko never forgave me…"  
" Don't say that Ranma." Nabiki was surprised at the tearful break in her voice.  
" Nabiki, I'm going out for a walk alone for a while." Ranma said as if he had   
not heard her speak. " Tell Kasumi not to stay up late waiting for me."  
In two movements the door was open, then shut and Ranma gone like a gust   
of wind in the night. Leaving Nabiki to sit there on the floor and think about   
what Ranma had done, and what she had done in her own anger. So she wept. For   
those that were hurt, and those who were left with those deeds forever on their   
hands.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Want more ? NEED more ?  
Go to http://www.members.tripod.com/Ghaleon_WG/  
  
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Also , if you would like to post some of your own fiction on my aforementioned   
site please mail them to the aforementioned e-mail address in .txt format .   
THANKS for reading ! 


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